SERENDIPITOUS
by Skarrow
Summary: Clair's betrothal to Morty is for purely political reasons. She is perfectly fine with this, because her duties to the Blackthorn dragon clan had always come first. But Morty thinks otherwise, and suggests a 20-day trial period... [Hopeshipping(Morty/Clair), slight Trickyshipping(Lance/Lyra)][Sister-fic to SPINNING]
1. First day

**A/N:** This story is the sister-fic to SPINNING (Lance/Lyra, already completed) and COUNTDOWN (the sequel to both SPINNING and this fanfic, which will be uploaded in the future)! You don't need to read SPINNING or COUNTDOWN because this fanfic is standalone, but reading the others will definitely give you a better understanding of the world and the relationship dynamics between all of the characters. Credits will be posted on the final chapter.

I believe there is only one other Morty/Clair fanfic on FF dot net called "Dragon's Dance" (I think?), but sadly I don't remember the plot or anything about it. I can't find it anymore, either. But still, I think "Hopeshipping" is a beautiful name for a pairing. And as such, I was challenged to make this story live up to the name. Does somebody out there know why Morty/Clair is known as Hopeshipping? What's the origin for it?

P.S. I don't really support Lance/Lyra or Morty/Clair, or any romantic pairing in general in the Pokemon fandom. I just think it would be really interesting to see how these two ships play out. Especially Morty/Clair. A shame that they have zero interaction in the games.

* * *

**SERENDIPITOUS - The first day  
**

* * *

_Marriage is a lifetime agreement, a contract, between two parties in order to gain mutual benefit from each other.  
_

_It was a necessary sacrifice to make in order to get ahead in the race to become the next clan leader._

_This was what Clair believed, so when her grandfather approached her one day out of the blue with a marriage candidate in mind, the gym leader accepted it without complaint. If her own grandfather was suggesting this then going through with it was the best way to win his favor and secure the headship._

* * *

"You are free to reject me, Clair."

"What?"

Clair blinked her way out of her thoughts and back to reality. She stared at Morty, who sat across the table from her, not really sure she heard him correctly. The blonde had set aside his menu to give Clair his undivided attention.

"I understand that your grandfather conspired with my mother on this. While this arrangement is indeed beneficial for both of our clans, we have an age difference of nine years. And on top of your gym leader and clan duties, you are currently overseeing the underground shrine restoration project at the Dragon's Den, right? You must not be thinking about marriage right now."

"Don't mock me," Clair spat, annoyed, causing Morty to flinch slightly. "I'm not so inefficient that I can't juggle multiple tasks at once."

"I never meant it that way," Morty said quickly in an attempt to keep damages to a minimum. "Marriage means you and I will be together for the rest of our lives... perhaps it would be best if we both had time to think about it carefully."

"I don't care about that. And aren't_ you_ just trying to get out of it because you don't want to be distracted from _your_ precious projects?" Clair lashed out.

A strained silence ensued.

Luckily, the other patrons at the high-end restaurant were polite enough to not pay the odd couple any attention, but it was still so very awkward.

Morty cleared his throat. "...Shall we start again from the beginning?"

"The beginning? You mean, when we first introduced ourselves to each other? _'Good evening Morty, it's so nice to be able to finally meet you like this. It's a nice night out, isn't it? I appreciate you reserving a private table next to the windows so we could enjoy the view'_? Just what would that accomplish?"

His eyebrows quirked with humor, but his tone remained solemn. "I don't want you to feel that you are obligated to go through with the arrangement, that's all."

Clair did in fact feel obligated. It was her _duty_ to see this through for the betterment of the Blackthorn dragon clan, and it puzzled her that Morty - a well-respected member of his clan, a clan that was as old as hers - did not feel the same way. But he was being rather serious about this, and she felt that he wouldn't let the issue go without proper reassurance of some kind, so she decided to tell him the other, less important reason why she had accepted the engagement instead.

"When my grandfather first approached me with your resume, I was intrigued. Your family has had long ties with many legendary pokemon, and I respect the work you've done to uphold the Ecruteak traditions. I thought an alliance between our clans would be interesting, and I don't have anyone in particular that I'm seeing at the moment, so I accepted."

"You can be really blunt," Morty commented. His smile was both exasperated and amused.

For some reason, his smile made her pause for a split second. "...What about you? Why did you accept this engagement?" Clair asked, mentally shrugging off the unidentifiable feeling. "Surely you've had your pick of women in your thirty years."

"Ahaha, no... ever since I was twelve I focused solely on my studies and training both myself and my pokemon, and after that I was maintaining my gym and seeing to all of my other responsibilities. I was never popular with girls," he said shyly.

Not popular with girls?

Clair took a closer look at his delicate and princely facial features, his stylishly tousled blonde hair and his dark violet eyes and decided that while girls would have been drawn to him for his refreshing good looks, they were all probably turned off by how stiff he is.

"So, you're really okay with this, Clair? You're perfectly fine with marrying me, even though you don't know me that well?" Morty asked for the third time that night.

"Yes, I am," Clair responded coolly.

"Alright then." Morty nodded, accepting her firm decision. "How does a twenty-day trial period sound to you?"

"A trial-period?"

"To see how we'll fare as a couple. So starting today, and each day afterwards, we try to do something that the average couple does. And if one of us gets sick of it we can stop. What do you think?"

...What was the point of doing this when they were getting bound together in holy matrimony because it was mutually beneficial for their clans? If loyalty was the problem, Clair had long ago decided that she would be faithful to whomever she married, and she instinctively felt that Morty would do the same.

Her grandfather and Morty's mother had already decided on their betrothal so why did he care? Why waste precious time?

He obviously still wanted to give her a chance to back out of the engagement, prolonging the inevitable as much as he was allowed. Clair thought that he really needed to work on his subtlety, athough she could give him props for being consistently kind and considerate to her about everything despite her slight hostility.

"...I'm fine with it," she told him.

Morty smiled at her again, and that strange feeling deep within her gurgled once more.

* * *

Dinner was more pleasant than Clair expected. They did not have much trouble finding common topics of interests, so there wasn't a single awkward silence. Once in a while, Morty would ask her light questions regarding her work as a gym leader. He seemed to be really interested in the Blackthorn city's long history with dragon-taming... so she invited him to visit the city whenever he wished. In return, Morty also suggested that she stop by Ecruteak to see his current charity project.

Meanwhile, Clair couldn't help but wonder what Morty was planning to do to court her for the next nineteen days. They were both equally tied up with their responsibilities - how were they even going to find the time for the trial period, much less find the time to schedule to meet up? Sure, they had already invited each other to stop by each others' respective cities but what else was there? Did they really need to meet for twenty days in a row? Perhaps they should address this...

"Oh, I've been wondering about this for awhile now, but the pasta that you ordered - is it good?" Morty asked curiously, peering over the decorative flowers in the center of the table at Clair's own plate. "If I'm not mistaken that's the restaurant's original Mahogany town recipe that I keep hearing about from Pryce."

"Why didn't you order that, then?" Clair asked, popping an olive into her mouth with her fork.

"I wasn't sure it were really the same dish until I saw it."

She shook her head. "You should take the initiative more often, Morty." She wasn't just referring to food - she was also referring to all of the things he did in general. She admired how meticulously he approached his passions, but she was also a bit aggravated with how placid and somewhat slow he could be. At the monthly gym leader conferences, he was always acting as a mediator and always ending up with the short end of the stick when it was over. Shouldn't a ghost-type pokemon trainer be skilled at adapting to the situation?

"I suppose I should," he conceded with a self-depreciating chuckle. "I just can't help being cautious."

Clair chewed thoughtfully for a moment before spearing the_ penne_ with her fork and lifting it out towards the male.

"Here."

Morty's gazed at the outstretched food, then at Clair's face, and then back to the food with confusion.

"Um...?"

"This way, you'll be 100 percent sure whether or not you'll order the pasta the next time you come to this restaurant," she explained. "I don't mind."

Seconds passed, and the longer Clair held that position the more impatient she felt. Sensing this, Morty gave one last look at her face before leaning forward, carefully capturing the _penne_ on the fork with his mouth. Clair felt him tug on the utensil slightly before he quickly pulled back. She watched him chew and swallow.

"I wasn't expecting you to do that," Morty remarked nervously, bashfully looking off to one side. "I mean, I know I said that we start the trial-period today, but... you must be really determined to do this."

"What are you talking about? That wasn't for the twenty day couple simulation, that was merely the result of our mutually beneficial partnership. I simply acted in accordance with my clan's teachings."

"...Excuse me?"

Clair put down her silverware. "I am your partner and ally," she stated as if it were an obvious fact. But when she saw that Morty still did not understand, she explained, "I am your ally. And once we are married, we'll be partners for life. From the moment I accepted this engagement, I was prepared to have the whole world as my enemy." She sounded very much like she were reiterating some textbook passage.

"That's very touching of you to say, even though I'm sure you actually meant something else. But forgive me when I say I still don't understand how that's related to you feeding me."

"It means... it means you can rely on me, even if it's just a little favor like this," Clair said haltingly, unused to speaking such candid words. "You were interested in the dish I ordered, but you were unsure whether or not you would buy it so I shared some with you to help you decide. I was also doing this to help you save your money."

A short pause.

"...E-enough about that now. How was the pasta?"

Morty blinked and laughed under his breath.

"What's so funny?" Clair growled.

"No, I'm not laughing at you," Morty reassured her, his eyes twinkling with... something. "It's... I think I'm beginning to understand you."

It was her turn to be confused. "What do you mean?"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it... anyways, back to your original question. The pasta is delicious." He grinned. "Thank you for sharing it with me."

"Think nothing of it. As I've said, it's the result of our mutually beneficial partnership." Clair said, adamant about the name.

"I must say..." Morty began. "I'm quite enjoying this _mutually beneficial partnership_ of ours. Let me return the favor. Is there anything I ordered that you want to try?"

The rest of their dinner continued on in this mutually beneficial manner.

* * *

**The first day - END**

* * *

**A/N:** Tsundere Clair is fun to write, geezus. :D


	2. Second day

**A/N:** I forgot to say this in the first chapter, but I do not own Pokemon, or any of the characters!

I finally found out the reason why Morty/Clair is called Hopeshipping: it's because they both seem to be "spiritual" characters who revere mystical creatures (Morty for Ho-oh, Clair for dragons in general), hence **Hope**shipping. Actually, if that were true the wouldn't the ship be called** Faith**shipping or something?

Let's see... last chapter, I mentioned that this fanfic is directly related to SPINNING, right? Time-wise, the story takes place about a year before SPINNING, sorry for not mentioning it sooner!

...Err, ahem! Thanks to **Shinymudkip25,** **michele noborikawa** and** AquilaTempestas** for reviewing!

* * *

**Characters:**

Clair  
The protagonist of SERENDIPITOUS. She's a tough nut who is always aiming to be the most powerful pokemon trainer. As the strongest gym leader in Johto and a candidate for headship of the mysterious and influential Blackthorn dragon clan, she is aware that appearances are everything - so she purposely cultivates a fearsome reputation. Her political engagement with Morty is just what she needs to get ahead of her cousin, Lance, so she accepted it without complaint.

Morty  
Ecruteak city's gym leader, and Clair's fiance. He is from a clan of guardians and worshippers of Ho-oh and Lugia. Because of his kind nature, he ends up getting taken advantage of by friends and strangers alike but he doesn't seem to mind it too much. Morty believes that his current "relationship" with Clair is too unstable for a marriage to work, so he suggested a twenty day couple simulation which either one of them could back out of.

* * *

**SERENDIPITOUS - The second day**

* * *

_Marriage is a lifetime agreement, a contract, between two parties in order to gain mutual benefit from each other._

_It was a necessary sacrifice to make in order to get ahead in the race to become the next clan leader._

_This was what Clair believed._

_Something like a "trial-period" was a waste of time, but Morty insisted... so she went along with it._

_But she just wanted this over and done with._

_Clair did not care for falling in love anymore...  
_

* * *

Clair was not expecting to see Lance sitting in the dining room with a cup of coffee that evening as she prepared to leave for Goldenrod city. Without thinking, she quickly and quietly backed away from the dining room entrance, her heart thumping from the sudden surge of adrenaline.

Why? Why is he here?

Luckily, he was too engrossed in the magazine he was reading to notice her. Clair resisted the urge to run, and tried not to think about how they were currently alone in the mansion. Still, the memories threatened to engulf her.

Early evening, the mansion, and she was alone with Lance at that time, too... nobody was there to help her... it hurt so much-

No, she couldn't allow herself to sink into hysteria right before an important date with her betrothed, nor could she act in a way that could arouse Lance's suspicion. She needed to be strong - for the clan, for the people who believed in her, and most importantly for herself. Clair took a few calming breaths, waiting until her rapidly pounding pulse had slowed somewhat. She steeled herself as if she were preparing to face a powerful gym challenger and marched into the dining room.

"So you think it's alright to shirk away from your League duties now that Lyra's preparing to take over as Champion? Well, not that I particularly care about your precious reputation - just don't drag down the whole family with you." Clair was honestly amazed by how convincingly smug she sounded. She figured that it was because in a way, she truly _did_ resent her cousin, somewhere deep inside...

Lance looked up from the magazine he was reading at the sound of her voice. "Ah, Clair? You look nice. Do you have a date?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Clair sniffed. "And judging by your composure and the rather goofy smile on your face, you're going to meet Lyra today, aren't you?"

"I promised that I'd introduce her to my old friends, the previous Elite Four members."

"Mm-hm. And then you'll be wining and dining her right afterwards. Lance, I know you're much more cunning than this so why are your methods so prosaic? It would be child's play for you to claim her heart if you just do what you do best."

Lance arched an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment because it's never clear when it comes from you, but I can't just resort to doing what I do best whenever I like. Lyra is... a special case. Everything needs to be just right. And that means using reliable methods, or prosaic methods, whatever you want to call it."

Clair made no comment on that. It was pretty obvious, anyways - Lyra truly was special to have Lance of all people acting like this. It really seemed like he'd do anything for her.

...Perhaps if Clair had that much of an influence over Lance back then, she wouldn't be acting this way now.

Things wouldn't have ended up this way...

The redhead watched his cousin sit across the table from him with a cup of chocolate pudding and a plastic spoon. "Are you sure you should be eating that right before meeting with your date? He might want to buy you dessert after your dinner or something."

"We won't be eating dinner together tonight," Clair mumbled around the spoon in her mouth. She had to slow down her eating, otherwise it would look like she was in a hurry to get away from the room... "He'll be caught up in charity work preparations until seven, so I went ahead and ate dinner already."

"Is he worthy to be a member of the clan?"

She had been expecting him to ask that right from the start, and had her answer prepared beforehand. "Of course he is. Grandfather approved of him right from the start," she said snidely. It was not the complete truth, but it was the truth nonetheless.

To his credit, Lance did not rise to the bait. But Clair knew she had struck a nerve; their grandfather, the honored clan Elder had yet to openly recognize Lance's possible relationship with Lyra. It has been over a year already and there has been nothing even remotely resembling approval from the wise old man.

The members of the clan never doubted the Elder's word because the man had single-handedly protected Blackthorn with his own power and intelligence. He had incredible foresight, and many important decisions he'd made as a leader had saved the entire clan from the brink of collapse.

Clair respected her grandfather's decision to set her up with Morty; she felt honored to be a part of his grand designs. She was positive that her betrothal had special meaning for the clan, and she was determined to carry out his wish. The Elder not yet approving Lance's choice of woman was just the icing on the cake - anything that could help Clair attain headship faster was always good.

"Did you know? A kiss given to you on the nape of your neck means _'I want you all to myself_'," Lance said a few moments later, suddenly changing the topic. "So if your man kisses you there, you'll know what he means by it."

"Where on earth did you learn that piece of information? Or is this real advice from a male perspective?" Clair asked suspiciously.

He showed her the cover of his reading material. "It's pop psychology from this magazine. The author of the article claims that it's scientifically-proven."

"That's a _women's magazine_, Lance. Just what are you planning to do with the information you're getting?"

Lance smiled innocently. "It also happens to be Lyra's favorite magazine. I'm studying this particular article because I want to be sure that I'm making all the right moves and getting the message across when it really counts."

"So you _are_ doing what you do best after all..."

"For example, a kiss on the lips means _'I love you'_, but a kiss on the forehead means _'I care about you',_" Lance continued. "But why is there such a difference between the two? If you tell someone that you love them, it obviously means that you also care for them. Why are there two separate kisses for it? Clair, as a woman, can you enlighten me on this?"

"...I've given up on being a woman a long time ago, so I wouldn't know," Clair said flatly, finishing off the last of her pudding and rising from her chair. It was a good thing she was done, too, because she no longer had an appetite. She tossed her trash into the closest bin and made to leave, unable and unwilling to continue this farce of a conversation. "Anyways, it's nearly seven. I'll just touch up my makeup and I'll be off. If Grandfather looks for me, tell him that I won't be back until around ten, eleven at the latest."

"Clair?"

She stopped in her tracks halfway out the door at the sound of his voice. She did not turn around. "Mm?"

"I was being sincere earlier - you really do look nice tonight. It's been ages since I last saw you dressed up for any reason other than the Christmas gala you and I are forced to attend every year with our co-workers in the League. I hope he makes you happy."

Clair didn't dignify that with a reply. She left the dining room without looking back, deeply thankful that she was no longer in the same room as him.

* * *

"You're free to reject me, Clair."

"Didn't we already have this conversation yesterday?" Clair snapped. "Say that to me again and you'll be sorry."

It was true; yesterday, Morty had insisted that Clair should not feel obligated to their engagement. She had reassured him that her compliance was still her own decision, a decision she made freely, and in the end he had reluctantly accepted it. But right now she could plainly see that he was having second thoughts again. And who could blame him? Tonight just had to be one of the most awkward nights of Clair's life... and she was quite certain that he shared the sentiment.

For the second day of their couple simulation, they had decided to watch a movie together in Goldenrod city. Because watching a movie together in the big city was what couples did for a date, right? But the movie had already ended over thirty minutes ago, and the pair had mutually agreed to walk around the city together for awhile. Which would have been nice if they could just find something to talk about and break the weird, heavy silence between them...

Yesterday, Clair had no trouble conversing with him. She had felt an unusual chemistry with him.

But tonight, the chemistry was gone...

They had already talked about the movie and the weather. The "getting-to-know-you" conversation happened yesterday during dinner.

What else was there?

Clair peeked at the blond walking next to her out of the corner of her eye. His profile looked utterly handsome no matter what direction she was seeing him from - it was just too bad he was such a dork about dating.

On their way inside the movie theater two hours ago, Clair had suggested holding hands as the activity for the 2nd day of the trial-period, to emulate the other lovey-dovey couples in the area. But Morty had gotten so embarrassed and uncomfortable from the mere idea and refused. He couldn't look the female directly in the eyes for the rest of the night.

"I-I'm sorry." The ghost-type specialist was apologizing a lot tonight. For putting off their date for a couple of hours, for acting like a teenage girl about the holding-hands thing, and now for bringing up the arranged marriage again.

"Just... just don't say that again, okay?" Clair answered, resisting the urge to sigh aloud. She had to pick up the slack if she wanted this stupid agreement to be finished within the promised twenty days. Missing a couple activity was not an option! And she was not going back home until she accomplished today's quota!

Somehow, the silent pair ended up walking into a park. Unlike the rest of Goldenrod city, the air here was nice and clean, and the trees muffled the sounds of the bustling night life. It gave one the impression that Morty and Clair were all alone in the world.

Clair looked up at the sky. It was a cloudless night, and despite the light pollution, she could see some stars twinkling here and there... it was a romantic atmosphere, the perfect kind of atmosphere to try and do something couple-like!

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Clair said, trying to start up the conversation again. But when he did not respond right away, she glanced at him and immediately saw that he wasn't paying attention to her. "Um, what are you doing?"

"I can't explain it well, but... there is a strange presence in the air. Ever since we stepped foot in this park, the presence has been tailing us. I believe we have disturbed someone's resting place," Morty remarked, scanning the darkness of the tall trees with suspicion. Something flew into his face, and he swatted it away with his hand, irritated.

"You mean someone is following us?" Clair looked over her shoulder behind her for any signs of a mysterious stalker. She jumped at the fly that buzzed past her ear and looked up.

...Was it just her, or where there were an unusual amount of bugs around here?

"Yes. I will need to speak to Whitney about this in the morning." Morty paid no more heed to the bugs, and took one last look around before declaring, "There's nothing I can do right now, so let's leave and-"

"Over there!" Clair hissed, grabbing the man's shoulder in a painful, wrenching grasp. "Look!"

Further down the path, deeper inside the park, was... a person? A woman, maybe? She was hovering in between two tree trunks, a bright red cloak draped over her... and was it Clair's imagination, or was she semi-transparent?

Suddenly, the atmosphere didn't feel perfectly romantic anymore. And indeed, it felt like she was all alone with Morty... no one would be able to save them if they screamed for help.

The bugs were still buzzing around them. For some reason, it reminded Clair of how old corpses often had flies hovering about-

...

No.

_No way._

Her brain was just working overtime. She was jumping to conclusions. Plastic bags were semi-transparent these days, and so were a couple of politicians when it came to their less than savory agendas. So it was okay for the odd person to be semi-transparent, too.

...Okay, she needed to stop. Thinking. Right. Now.

"H-h-h-hey. Hey, Mo-mmph?!"

Clair was about to ask Morty a question, but he'd reached over and clamped a hand right over her mouth.

"Please listen to what I have to say before passing any judgment," Morty said quietly, urgently. "When you address me, don't use my real name outloud. And don't reveal your real name, either. At least, not until we get out of the park safely. A person's name is the chain that links them to their body, and keeps them anchored in the plane of the living. If the spirits find out what your name is, they'll drag you down with them to the other side."

She couldn't speak because he still had his hand covering her mouth, but she gave him a panicked look instead.

_No way! There was just no way! This is some kind of joke, right?! RIGHT?!_

Morty blinked at Clair. He looked very surprised for a few seconds before becoming again serious. "...Let's leave, quickly."

Clair had no freaking idea what was going on, but made no objection to that.

He released his hold on her mouth, and the pair dashed back the way they came. Even when they had finally emerged from the park, the pair continued to run, weaving in and out of the throngs and throngs of people and getting dirty looks from those they'd bumped into accidentally.

At last, they'd slowed to a stop right outside a tall building, which Clair recognized but for some reason didn't remember the name of. They plopped down on a wooden bench in front of one of the large fountains at the same time, tired and breathless. The street lamps shone over their heads from behind them, and Clair's gaze was randomly drawn to the shape of Morty's shadow and hers on the ground.

It was Morty who broke the silence after a few moments. "A-are you alright?"

"Y-yes," Clair wheezed, her heart still beating erratically.

"Of course, you must want an explanation." Morty nodded solemnly. "The bottom line is, the park we had just escaped from is being haunted by a spirit, and a particularly powerful one."

"A-a-a _spirit_? Not a ghost pokemon?"

"Not a pokemon, no."

"...Go on."

"There isn't much I can tell you, because this was the first time I'd ever encountered it. All I can say is that I'll need to contact Whitney tomorrow morning and get permission to bring over a team and exorcise the area as soon as possible... because there is a chance that ordinary people will be affected."

"So it's that dangerous already?" Clair shook her head. She was having a hard time absorbing what he was telling her - it sounded like a flight of fancy to her - but she was still shaken from her earlier experience. She felt that she could believe anything. But what kind of questions does one ask when it came to the supernatural? Were there such thing as logical questions?

And then she realized, she just didn't want to know. About ghosts, about hauntings, _about_ anything supernatural.

She didn't want to have this conversation anymore. Even though she'd wanted to have one with him the entire night, she didn't want this-

"Um, would you like something to drink?" Morty suddenly asked, sounding a lot calmer now. "I'll buy it for you from the vending machine over there..." He motioned to his right towards the group of vending machines that glowed welcomingly in the dark.

Clair closed her eyes, swallowed hard and reopened her eyes, her gaze still focused on their respective shadows. "That sounds wonderful. I appreciate it, thank you."

But he did not stand up from the bench. She, on the other hand, was so caught up in her whirling emotions and thoughts that she had nearly forgotten about his presence until she heard him cough discreetly, trying to get her attention.

"What?"

"Err... Clair, I can't go to the vending machines like this..."

"Why not?"

"We... that is, you..."

The deadly serious Morty was gone, and in his place was the bashful little boy whose face had resembled a turnip for two hours straight, all because he couldn't stand the thought of holding a girl's hand. Even in the dim streetlights, Clair could see how red his face was. And he was biting his lip, and kept nervously pushing his blond hair out of his eyes.

What's going on? Clair wondered. Why is he acting like this all of a sudden?

She finally noticed that he was staring down at something between them. Clair looked down as well-

They were holding hands.

More specifically, she was gripping his hand like there was no tomorrow.

Clair immediately released him from her punishing iron grip. "S-sorry," she mumbled, mortified, her cheeks pinking from embarrassment.

Morty leapt up from the bench, standing with his spine ramrod straight. "N-n-no, it's m-my fault. You looked too scared to move earlier... s-so I, um..." He trailed off awkwardly, grasping for the right words. But in the end, all he could come up with was, "...I'm going to go buy that drink now!" before stumbling away from the bench.

Meanwhile, Clair couldn't stop thinking about his words. And thought about his background and work once again. The man probably did these things on a daily basis. _Of course_ if she married Morty, supernatural experiences like this would become... a normal, everyday occurrence. Why didn't she think about that before, dammit?! She needed to seriously consider the possibilities of her life together with him now. No way was she going to back out of the engagement, but the situation had become slightly more complicated-

"I'm back! Here you go."

"That was fast." Clair murmured, accepting the bottle from him. "'Cupid Cola'?" She read the label aloud. She'd never heard of this one before.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't ask you what you wanted."

She waved her hand. "It's fine. I'll take it. But Morty, I don't see your drink...?"

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with humor. "About that... I was hoping we could share. You know, like yesterday. _Mutually beneficial_ and all that."

Clair returned the smile; she could feel her composure finally returning. She had to give him credit for being quite effective at calming her down. "It's good that you brought that up, because I have a favor to ask of you, _partner_: Tonight's adventure at the park will never be spoken about or alluded to ever again. _Ever_. Okay?" She flipped open the can, took a few swigs and held out the drink to Morty for him to take, her smile becoming just a bit threatening.

Morty was unperturbed, however. And bless his soul, he did not play dumb to what she was really asking him to do - namely, to keep secret that she had become petrified in the face of a spirit and needed to be physically dragged to safety. "My lips are sealed."

* * *

**The second day - END**

* * *

**A/N:** Writing from different people's perspectives is easy. Writing from different people's perspectives while trying to show how different and unique their interactions with certain specific characters are is a headache.**  
**


	3. Third day

**A/N: **Soon I'll run out of things to say... it appears that this is the only Morty/Clair fanfic on FF dot net. Unless I'm searching all wrong. I seriously can't find the other fanfic I read last year. I wonder if it was taken down?

**P.S.** The character descriptions change slightly with every chapter to reflect the most recently revealed information, just in case you didn't know that.

* * *

**Characters:**

Clair  
The protagonist of SERENDIPITOUS. She's a tough nut who is always aiming to be the most powerful pokemon trainer. She is aware that appearances are everything so she purposely cultivates a fearsome reputation. Her political engagement with Morty is just what she needs to get ahead of her cousin, Lance, so she accepted it without complaint. Is also afraid of ghosts.

Morty  
Ecruteak city's gym leader, and Clair's fiance. He is a psychic from a clan of guardians and worshippers of Ho-oh and Lugia. Because of his kind nature, he ends up getting taken advantage of by friends and strangers alike but he doesn't seem to mind it too much. Morty believes that his current "relationship" with Clair is too unstable for a marriage to work, so he suggested a twenty day couple simulation which either one of them could back out of.

Lance  
Clair's cousin, the current Indigo League Champion and also a candidate for clan headship. He has a very awkward yet non-hostile relationship with Clair due to their grandfather's influence. He has a... strange sense of humor.

* * *

**SERENDIPITOUS - The third day**

* * *

_Marriage is a lifetime agreement, a contract, between two parties in order to gain mutual benefit from each other._

_Something like a "trial-period" was a waste of time, but Morty insisted... so she went along with it._

_And not long after, she discovered that perhaps her married life with him wouldn't be as easy as she first thought.  
_

* * *

Clair groaned aloud. She couldn't stop thinking about the "spirit" she had encountered at the park with Morty last night. She had already tried training, meditation, and pokemon battling with the trainers at her gym. Of course, the difference of power between hers and her opponents' pokemon were as one-sided as usual, completely in her favor, but even with the sound victories she'd achieved, the trainers seemed to have noticed that her rhythm was off.

_"Is it just me, or is Clair even more scary than usual?"_

_"I wonder what happened..."_

_"Did one of us piss her off or something?!"_

_"Who the hell was it, dammit?!"_

She could hear those useless whelps gossip behind her back. If you were going to whisper, shouldn't you do it so no one can hear?!

But Clair was helpless to stop the chill that had settled upon her shoulders, her spine, her sides. Merely thinking about what happened was enough to set all of her hair standing on its ends. Why, oh why did it have to be ghosts? She couldn't even find comfort in pokemon battling anymore!

She stomped into the ladies' room, locked the door and studied herself in the full-length mirror. Her face was indeed stricken and pale, damnation - and her eyeliner was just a bit smudged. In addition, stray hairs stuck out from her otherwise immaculate ponytail, her blush had all but faded, and her lips were as dry as a desert. This wouldn't do, oh no, this wouldn't do at all. No way was she going back out there looking so sloppy - her image would be ruined! Whipping out her emergency make up kit and a brush, she spent the next several minutes attacking her hair and her face with just as much fervor as her pokemon battles, keeping at it until she was presentable once again.

She stepped back a few paces and made a 180 turn, appraising herself in the mirror.

"Hmph. Much better."

Clair took extra time to appreciate her face, her near perfect figure and smooth skin, all of which her custom-made bodysuit showed off quite nicely. All of which she had worked hard to achieve. She knows she's beautiful. She knows that men all over the region have at least fantasized about her at least once or twice. Being beautiful also helped her public image - no one could turn away a competent trainer who was also easy on the eyes, so political maneuvers were slightly easier for her than it was for her cousin Lance, who also could not deny her attractiveness. Her physical appearance is one of her most important weapons, a weapon she utilizes whenever she can.

...But Morty was different.

Clair felt her self-confidence deflate just a bit. He didn't act interested in her looks at all. The man seemed indifferent to the reactions and attention she garnered from the male populace as well. Perhaps her style of clothing wasn't to his liking? Or... perhaps she wasn't his 'type', as Jasmine or Whitney would have put it.

This was a big problem for her. To qualify for headship, Clair and Morty would have to obey the conditions that her honorable grandfather had decreed: by loving each other both platonically AND passionately. If the mystic seer did not want her sexually, even the slightest bit, then their eventual marriage would not meet the requirements she needs, and Lance would win...!

...

What kind of woman was Morty's type? Did he like traditionally feminine girls like Jasmine? Or did he fall for modern, 'dangerous' girls like Karen? Or was he an ephebo like Lance and preferred someone like Lyra? It was a mistake for Clair to not question the mystic seer about it.

A sharp knock on the locked bathroom door shakes her out of her train of thought. Clair recognizes the voice speaking to her on the other side belonging to Mike, one of her gym trainers.

"Um, Leader Clair? Are you in still there? Leader Morty from Ecruteak city has come to pay you a visit."

Almost immediately, Clair's memories of last night return, full force. It takes all of her willpower to exit the bathroom with her usual perfect poise, cursing her embarrassing weakness under her breath.

* * *

"Clair, I'm glad I caught you!" Morty exclaimed as he stepped into the Blackthorn gym.

She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. The fear was so strong, she was beginning to hallucinate about ghost children hiding behind Morty now...!

"Clair!"

"?!"

She jumped at the feel of a hand grasping her upper arm and gently shaking her. The hand was attached to Morty. The mysterious child in question clung to Morty's leg, blinking up at her with sweet, innocent worry.

"Are you alright, Clair? You're as pale as a sheet," Morty said, looking her over with obvious concern. "You look like you're about to faint! Let me get you a chair and a glass of water-"

Almost immediately, the gym trainers erupted into furious whispers and not so subtle glances at the pair. Clair finally realized that the little boy was real and unceremoniously pushed her fiance's hand away from her. She spun on her heels and glared at her trainers so hard their obnoxious gossiping was cut short, intimidated by the female. Once she was sure they were all satisfactorily cowed into submission, Clair turned her attention back to Morty. "I don't need any of that! I-I wasn't expecting to see you this early. What are you doing in Blackthorn?"

Morty looked like he was about to say something regarding her condition, but changed his mind. "One of the children at my charity program really, really wanted to come here. I hope I'm not imposing."

The ghost-type specialist had explained it to her during their first date - he had started involving himself in charity work almost three years ago, usually involving war veterans or abandoned pokemon. It was only recently that Morty had begun campaigning for young children with illnesses and disabilities as well.

Clair narrowed her eyes at his words, her earlier fear subsiding bit by bit. "One of the children? Why?"

"Well... would it be possible for you to take him under your wing for a while? Make him one of your gym trainers?"

That... Clair was not expecting _that_. She did not know what she was expecting exactly, but it certainly wasn't_ that_.

"Are you really asking me to do this?"

"Of course, you will be generously compensated-"

"It isn't the damn money I'm asking about." She closed her eyes and reached up and massaged the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath. "You are aware of my reputation as a gym leader."

Morty smiled. "Of course I am. You are diligent, disciplined and you never lose sight of your goals in training. You are also harder on yourself than anyone else. And I admire you greatly for that. Trainers as dedicated as you are aren't easy to find."

Clair opened her mouth, and then closed it, stunned by his sincere words. She was expecting him to agree with the general public's (truthful) opinion of her - that she was hard-headed, power-hungry and prideful of her heritage and her battling ability, not sing her praises. She'd learned to live without compliments about her battling, but she had to admit... it was nice to hear. But she _wouldn't_ allow herself to get used to it.

The cute young boy of about nine or ten years finally chose this moment to step out into the open from behind Morty, trembling nervously as he stared up at the female. Morty reached out and ruffled his brown hair reassuringly.

"I am assuming that this is the child is the one you want me to take in?" Clair scrutinizes the boy with a hard stare, making him flinch.

"Yes. His name is Marc. Don't be fooled by his shyness or his age - underneath all of that is a trainer with a lot of promise." Morty's face grows very serious. "I know this because I tested him myself before bringing him to you. I'm something of a perfectionist myself, you see - as interesting as his request was, I wouldn't be here recommending him to you like this if he'd failed to meet my expectations. You won't be disappointed."

"Hmmm."

Yes, Clair knew that Morty was pretty disciplined and hard-driven in his own right. If only he'd focused all of his energy on training his pokemon for battling, she had no doubt he'd be worthy for the Elite Four... She respected his opinion, but she had to wonder why he seemed a bit desperate for her to accept Marc as a student.

She gave Marc a stern glare. "...Boy, do you know who you are speaking to? Do you know what gym this is?"

"Y-yes ma'am! This is the Blackthorn Gym, where all of the trainers specialize in dragon types! This is the final hurdle every trainer who wishes to become the League Champion must overcome before they can challenge the Elite Four! You are Miss Clair, the strongest gym leader in Johto!" March stutters without breathing.

"Exactly. I do not care for age, gender, family or status. My only requirement for you to become one of my trainers is simple: strive to be the very best trainer there ever was. Can you do that?"

"Yes! Yes, ma'am! I will strive to be the best there ever was!"

"One more thing, Marc." Clair walks behind the boy, rests her gloved hands on his shoulders and forces him to stand up straighter. "Fix your posture and the way you address people. From today onwards, you will be working and battling alongside the strongest gym trainers in Johto so start acting like it. It wouldn't do to let other people see you this way - how you express yourself physically and verbally will reflect upon me, your fellow trainers, and yourself. Am I making myself clear?"

To her satisfaction, the boy nods his head vigorously, eyes gleaming with determination. "I understood you perfectly, ma'am! Thank you so much for accepting me as your student!"

"Hold on, you're getting ahead of yourself. You aren't officially a trainer at my gym until you pass my assessment exam tomorrow. I'm warning you, it's no walk in the park. If you don't have what it takes, then you can forget about coming by."

"I'll give it my all! I will pass your exam, ma'am!"

Clair nods approvingly, already liking the boy's intense drive and no-nonsense attitude. She gestures for one of her trainers to take the boy off her hands and install him in the dorms before turning her attention back to Morty. Her fiance looked both happy and sad for some reason, and he gave her a shaky smile. "...Do you want to straighten out the details inside my office?" She asked him.

"I would appreciate the privacy. Thank you."

* * *

Once they were settled down, the door to the small administrative office locked to keep out any unwanted interruptions, Morty got straight to the point. "The truth of the matter is, well. Marc... is really sick. He's getting treated at a university hospital, but... the doctors say he doesn't have much time left. Still, I want his dreams to come true. I'm grateful for your cooperation from the bottom of my heart."

Clair crosses her arms over chest.

"Hmph, I had a hunch this was the case."

"Eh?" Morty blinks, shocked. "You... you knew? But- but you accepted, without hesitation-"

"I have my reasons," the dragon tamer said simply.

There is a pregnant pause. Outside the office window, Clair absently noticed a pair of especially tiny Pidgeys perched together in the tree overlooking the upper training grounds. Morty on the other hand stared at the carpeted floor in deep thought.

"Did you do this... because of our agreement?"

He asked quietly.

She snorts. "What did you think? That is part of the reason, yes."

"Part of the reason?"

"I said it before, and I'll say it again; I do not care for age, gender, family or status. My only requirement to become one of my trainers is simple: strive to be the very best trainer there ever was." Clair smirks at the blonde. "Because it doesn't matter who or what you are. Strength is strength."

* * *

**The third day - END**


End file.
